Truth isn't invented or created
of course.
It's there, waiting to be found or revealed.
And discovering unchanging truths,
just below the surface of the everyday,
is one of the great rewards
of conversation, reading and prayer.
Here, I share some of my recent finds,
lest I burst.

Who Can It Be Now? And Other Inspired Songs from 1982

If a song is released in 1981 but becomes popular in 1982, then should I group that song with the 1981 songs or with the 1982 songs?

These are the types of thorny issues that we bloggers face.

I agree that it would be more precise to go by release date, but the thing about the United States popularity date is that for those of us who were mostly relying on the radio or popular media for our music, it’s this latter date that’s important. Different songs evoke feelings or even specific memories based on where we were when.

The song “Lady in Red,” for instance, reminds me of Beth at a high school dance. She was dating Enrique at the time, and when that song played, I saw them look at each other; it was one of those moments that must have felt like destiny for them (everything does, when you’re infatuated with someone) because she was wearing a red dress. I was happy for them and I liked the poetry of the moment.

I was stunned and saddened to hear that she had died. I didn’t find out until I went to organize my high school reunion in 2013. I think she’s the only one from my high school class who isn’t walking this earth these days.

Anyway, the songs from 1982 are pre-high school for me. I associate many of them with the dances in the junior high gym. The teachers would attend too, watching from the perimeters. They were ‘supervising’ I guess, and to us students, they were nearly invisible. Even a twenty-five year old teacher was, relatively speaking, a dinosaur, incapable of understanding us, was the general thought. It’s only now that I realize what it feels like to be ‘grown up.’ I see that it’s a lot like being not grown up, and I see that I am more like myself as a child than I am like any other grown-up. It’s only now that I realize that they would have badly wanted to dance too.

Ah, but I should get back to work.

Or, to be more specific, I should get back to Men at Work.

I was very pleased with “Who Can it Be Now?” and VigilantOne couldn’t believe my claim. He said, “You’re saying that’s inspired? By God?”

Ha ha ha.

Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.

No joke.

God inspires so many people, and so many artists. To be inspired, you merely need the right disposition. You need to want to do right, and you need to be willing to do what it takes to get it right. Your motive does not need to be consciously related to God. You do not need to be writing church music to be inspired by the Holy Spirit. If your motive is as simple as wanting to write a song that is truthful and enjoyable for your fans, then you will probably be inspired.

So you’d think, then, that it wouldn’t be terribly hard to hit the mark.

Sadly, it is, because the human heart has a lot of dark corners. Unfortunately, in the writing of a song, many people let the ball drop. They focus on merely getting the job done, and the apathy mars what could have been good. Alternatively, they focus on self-promotion, and the ego blocks God’s light to their head. And then of course, there are those who are out to produce something dirty and low. Those folks get their ideas from elsewhere.

Motive is everything. God supports good motives.

I’ve more than once joked, who needs talent if you’ve got inspiration?

I suppose I’ll later come across more songs for these years, and I’ll then have to face yet another blogging dilemma. Would I go back to these posts and add new songs I’ve found or would I make a new post to cover off the later-discovered?

Ah.

Dilemmas dilemmas.

Anyway, as before, I’m going to put the lyrics here. I get these from online, but I do try to correct any mistakes I find when I repost them myself. Some artists (Alan Parsons Project, for instance) post the lyrics on their official sites, but some (Queen, for instance) want you to go out and buy a book in order to know what they were.

The other thing I thought I should mention is that I really don’t choose these songs for an ulterior motive. I am not favouring songs which express my own thoughts or sentiments at the moment, for example.

(This is the disclaimer part, ha ha: “The ideas expressed in these lyrics do not reflect the views of the blogger . . .

except when they do . . . ”)

Of course, I do find it amusing and fascinating that most of the songs could have been personal theme songs at one point or another, but that’s not why I pick them. I have no need to do that, because if there’s something I want to say, I can just say it. I don’t need another writer to write my lines. I choose these songs because they’re inspired. And inspired stuff always has more general application than the uninspired, because it will truthfully describe life, not only for the sinner, but also for the saint. That’s just how it works, and it’s good, because it means that humanity can find itself expressed. You get a few artists writing well, and the rest of us can enjoy what they’ve done, while we pursue other types of work and leisure.

But speaking of sinners and saints, it’s really a shame that so few love songs are left at the end of the day. It seems that there are two extremes out there. You have the crooners who sing dull and dreary general-admission lyrics, and then you have the sex-fixated losers who sing repeatedly about one night stands and strangers walking down the street or whatever. They speak of sex as a game or a Saturday night diversion. Man! And the way they talk about women, you really conclude they never understood them at all. Some of these artists should have been castrated.

I’m joking, but you get my point, hey?

Stevie Wonder should just put away his equipment. I mean really! These lyrics! They’re not good enough to be scrawled on a dirty bathroom wall. And he’s not alone (yeah, he’s never alone — five wives and how many others?). There are so many other artists who produced so much smut. Sheena Easton, Lionel Ritchie, John Cougar Mellencamp, Olivia Newton-John, J. Geils Band — oh man, the list is long. It’s actually longer than this, but I’ll give you the ones that stand out as I scan over the hits. And what on earth is the problem with that Barbara Streisand chick? Growing up, I thought she was just a harmless and boring old lady with a big nose, but now that I read her lyrics, I see she just wasn’t okay. To review her stuff is to conclude her brain had only the one channel. Disgusting crap. Please, Barbara, go sit down way over there. Her ‘inspiration’ would have done incalculable harm, had God not intervened.

But enough of that. The good news is that in 1982, the world met some good tunes.

Continuing alphabetically as before, we begin with this one, which I always liked. Doesn’t it make you think of reading of souls, a gift some mystics have?

Don’t think sorry’s easily said
Don’t try turning tables instead
You’ve taken lots of chances before
But I ain’t gonna give any more
Don’t ask me
That’s how it goes
‘Cause part of me knows what you’re thinking

Don’t say words you’re gonna regret
Don’t let the fire rush to your head
I’ve heard the accusation before
And I ain’t gonna take any more
Believe me
The sun in your eyes
Made some of the lies worth believing

I am the eye in the sky
Looking at you
I can read your mind
I am the maker of rules
Dealing with fools
I can cheat you blind
And I don’t need to see any more to know that

I can read your mind (Looking at you)
I can read your mind (Looking at you)
I can read your mind (Looking at you)
I can read your mind

Don’t leave false illusions behind
Don’t cry
I ain’t changing my mind
So find another fool like before
‘Cause I ain’t gonna live anymore believing
Some of the lies while all of the signs are deceiving

I am the eye in the sky . . .

I Can’t Go for That (No Can Do) (Lyrics: Daryl Hall, John Oates & Janna Allen)

Easy, ready, willing, overtime
Where does it stop
Where do you dare me
To draw the line
You’ve got the body
Now you want my soul
Don’t even think about it
Say, no go

Yeah, I’ll do anything
That you want me to do
Yeah, I’ll do almost anything
That you want me too, ooh
Yeah

But I can’t go for that, no
No can do
I can’t go for that, no
No can do
I can’t go for that, no
No can do
I can’t go for that

Can’t go for that
Can’t go for that
Can’t go for that

I can go for being twice as nice
I can go for just repeating
The same old lines
Use the body
Now you want my soul
Ooh, forget about it
Now say, no go

Yeah, I ‘ll do anything
That you want me to do
Yeah, I’ll do almost anything
That you want me too, ooh
Yeah

I see you, you see me
Watch you blowin’ the lines
When you’re making a scene
Oh girl, you’ve got to know
What my head overlooks
The senses will show to my heart
When it’s watching for lies
You can’t escape my

Private eyes
They’re watching you
They see your every move
Private eyes
They’re watching you
Private eyes
They’re watching you
Watching you
Watching you
Watching you

You play with words
You play with love
You can twist it around, baby
That ain’t enough
‘Cause girl
I’m gonna know
If you’re letting me in
Or letting me go
Don’t lie
When you’re hurting inside
‘Cause you can’t escape my

Private eyes
They’re watching you
They see your every move, baby

Private eyes
They’re watching you
Private eyes
They’re watching you
Watching you
Watching you
Watching you

Why you try to put up a front for me
I’m a spy but on your side, you see
Slip on into any disguise
I’ll still know you
Look into my

Just a small town girl
Livin’ in a lonely world
She took the midnight train
Goin’ anywhere

Just a city boy
Born and raised in South Detroit
He took the midnight train
Goin’ anywhere

A singer in a smoky room
The smell of wine and cheap perfume
For a smile they can share the night
It goes on and on, and on, and on

Strangers waiting
Up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching
In the night
Streetlight people
Livin’ just to find emotion
Hidin’ somewhere in the night

Workin’ hard to get my fill
Everybody wants a thrill
Payin’ anything to roll the dice
Just one more time
Some will win
Some will lose
Some were born to sing the blues
Oh, the movie never ends
It goes on and on, and on, and on

Strangers waiting
Up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching
In the night
Streetlight people
Livin’ just to find emotion
Hidin’ somewhere in the night

Don’t stop believin’
Hold onto that feelin’
Streetlight people
Don’t stop believin’
Hold on
Streetlight people
Don’t stop believin’
Hold on to that feelin’
Streetlight people

Open Arms – Journey (Lyrics: Steve Perry, Jonathan Cain)

Lying beside you here in the dark
Feeling your heart beat with mine
Softly you whisper; you’re so sincere
How could our love be so blind

We sailed on together
We’ve drifted apart
And here you are by my side

So now I come to you with open arms
Nothing to hide, believe what I say
So here I am with open arms
Hoping you’ll see what your love means to me
Open arms

Living without you, living alone
This empty house seems so cold
Wanting to hold you, wanting you near
How much I wanted you home
But now that you’ve come back
Turned night into day
I need you to stay

So now I come to you, with open arms
Nothing to hide
Believe what I say
So here I am, with open arms
Hoping you’ll see what your love means to me
Open arms

Who Can it Be Now? – Men At Work (Lyrics: Colin James Hay)

Who can it be knocking at my door?
Go ‘way, don’t come ’round here no more.
Can’t you see that it’s late at night?
I’m very tired, and I’m not feeling right.

All I wish is to be alone;
Stay away, don’t you invade my home.
Best off if you hang outside,
Don’t come in, I’ll only run and hide.

Who can it be now?
Who can it be now?
Who can it be now?
Who can it be now?

Who can it be knocking at my door?
Make no sound, tip-toe across the floor.
If he hears, he’ll knock all day,
I’ll be trapped, and here I’ll have to stay.

I’ve done no harm, I keep to myself;
There’s nothing wrong with my state of mental health.
I like it here with my childhood friend;
Here they come, those feelings again!

Who can it be now?
Who can it be now?
Who can it be now?
Who can it be now?

Is it the man come to take me away?
Why do they follow me?
It’s not the future that I can see,
It’s just my fantasy